


It's Just Business

by bluestring14



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baby Kili and Fili, Baby Ori, Bilbo the Drama Queen, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Thorin the Brooding King, slow burn bagginshield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestring14/pseuds/bluestring14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Modern AU fic where Bilbo Baggins gets a job at Thorin's Company and realizes that there is so much more he had to do than what his job description states. Thorin is a workaholic who will learn about life, love and the power of miracles that come in small and unexpected packages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic for this fandom. I hope you guys enjoy reading and like it :)

Bilbo gritted his teeth and rubbed his temples, desperately trying to remedy the headache caused by the cacophony of sounds coming from the other side of the cab’s window. It was a mixture of honking cars, incessant chatter coming from the people bargaining outside and the rain pelting on the window. The addition of the rumble of thunder and crackle of lightning, made him feel worse. The battling of the two forces of nature surprised poor Bilbo so much that his head was sore from hitting it against the cab’s roof.

“Scared of thunder?” The cab driver asked, adjusting the rear view mirror to check if his passenger is still alive.

Bilbo gulped.                                                                                                                                                                 

“No, no.” He tittered. “Say, what are the odds that a cab stuck in a traffic jam would get struck by lightning?”

“One in a million.” The driver said non-chalantly, rolling his eyes. “Besides, it’s not the lightning you should worry about. Tell me, Mr.?”

“Baggins.”

“Mr. Baggins. Do you know how to swim?”

* * *

 

Bilbo threw the bills at the driver, not bothering to get the change. He stepped out of the cab and took a deep breath. There were only five minutes left for him to look for the place where they would meet.

“Meet me at the Esgaroth Café. 1:00 P.M. sharp. Don’t be late.” Gandalf had texted him.

Gandalf never did approve of tardiness, not that he ever was or planning to be.

And after dragging his suitcase around town asking locals – who had the audacity to sell him things even after he told them he was in a hurry – he arrived at a quaint café. Albeit soaked and shivering, he couldn’t help but feel elated that he arrived just in the nick of time.

The smell of coffee brewing and butter melting on pastries welcomed him in. It reminded him of his mother- the one person he wishes was right beside him in his current travel to foreign places. Places he hoped to call home just as easily as she did.

“Bilbo Baggins.” A blurry gray figure approached and hugged him. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”

“Yes. Good day, Mr. Grey.”

“There is no need for such formalities. We’re just friends having a small reunion.”

“A true friend would tell his friend the reason for the ‘reunion’ and explain what is going on - in detail.”

Bilbo hung his dripping coat on a chair and slumped into the cushions of the couch Gandalf chose for them.

“I thought I was clear enough. If I wasn’t,  then you, my dear fellow, wouldn’t be here.” Gandalf smirked.

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth.

“You could’ve at least told me, _warned me_ , about Laketown.” He muttered.

“Warned you?”

“Why,yes! The cab driver said that this town floods quickly and-“ Bilbo lowered his voice. “I don’t know how to swim.”

Gandalf deeply laughed.

“Oh, they are prepared. There is no need to worry.”

Bilbo sighed, looking out the window. The rain was relentlessly pouring with drops so fine; one could easily have mistaken it for fog. The view, which should’ve been calming, only aggravated Bilbo’s current state.

“Sir, your order.”

A waitress approached them, placing two cups of tea and two cakes on the table. She looked at Bilbo and her eyebrows furrowed. Transferring the tray to her left hand, she placed her right hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, making him jump.

“I’m sorry, sir. Are you alright? Are you afraid-“

“Why does everyone keep asking that? It’s not like I’m the only one in the world who gets scared!” He threw his arms in the air, making a scene.

“Thank you for the drinks.” Gandalf waved the waitress away.

“My dear fellow, why, I’ve never seen you this troubled.” He pushed a cup of tea and a cake to Bilbo.

Bilbo wrapped his fingers around the cup, grateful for the heat it radiated.

“It’s been years, Gandalf. I-I don’t think I’m ready for another adventure.” He groaned. “It’s probably for the best. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“You aren’t wasting my time, Bilbo. Because, whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me to Erebor. I’ve already submitted your resume. You’re perfect for the job.”

“Did the company say so?”

“Well-“

“So, you’re telling me that I’m going to _have to_ go to an unfamiliar place to apply for a job you wouldn’t even tell me, just because _you_ think I’m perfect for it?” Bilbo’s veins throbbed in his neck.

“Yes.”

Bilbo gave an exasperated sigh and fell back into the couch.

“Bilbo.” Gandalf said in the most gentle voice he could do. “What happened to you? What happened to the man who wouldn’t pass up on opportunities like this one?”

“He lost too much and he just doesn’t want to lose any more. He’s tired of taking risks and sick of playing a game where he doesn’t win.”

“I refuse to believe that. And I know you do too. You just have to prove it to yourself. Remember what your mother told you?”

“Life starts the moment your feet get swept off the doorstep and onto the road.”

“I would hate to see you living a life you don’t deserve. A life Belladonna Took would not have approved of. Or any Took would not have approved of, for that matter.” Gandalf winked. “Take this risk. Trust me. You’ll thank me – sooner or later.”

“It better be worth it.”

* * *

 

“He’s worth the risk, Thorin.”

Balin watched as Thorin drained his glass to fill it again with his fourth helping of wine. When problems arise, he knew that Thorin had the propensity to rely on alcohol to forget his problems. And ever since Thorin became the head of the Company and family, Balin has never seen him without a glass of wine in hand.

Balin’s heart was suddenly filled with pity and compassion. And as Thorin reached for another helping, although it was painful for him to do so, Balin decided to gently take it away before the two rims even had the chance to touch.

“Balin.”Thorin spoke in a hoarse but stern voice.

“No.” Balin clutched the bottle tighter. “Not another. That’s enough.”

“You are not my sister. You don’t have the bloody right to take that away from me. You don’t have the right to act like her. You don’t-“

Thorin froze mid-sentence, realizing who he was shouting at.

“I-I’m-“

“There is no need to apologize, Thorin.”

“No, there is. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve had enough.”

Thorin walked toward the glass window, his eyes fixated on the cityscape below which resembled the night sky. Lights like stars gave life and warmth to the individual buildings, making it look less disjoined from its surroundings. Quite the opposite of what Thorin was feeling at the moment.

“Thorin.” Balin whispered.

Thorin shifted his tired eyes from the window to his friend.

“Sorry.” His lips forming an apologetic smile. “I’m listening.”

“No, you’re not. Let – let me take care of this. It’s late. You’re intoxicated and tired. Go to sleep.”

“Balin, you’ve done enough for the company and for this-“ Thorin cleared his throat and extended his arm, reaching for the folder. “Let _me_ take care of this. I’m still sober. Trust me.”

Balin reluctantly gave the folder before standing up and giving a deep bow. Thorin was about to open the folder when Balin turned and spoke before leaving.

“Give him a chance, Thorin. Give yourself a chance.”

Thorin nodded, adjusted his lamp and put his reading glasses on.

“Bilbo Baggins.”

The name rolled off his tongue with such ease that he was almost convinced that he wasn’t meant to be so alone and disconnected with the world. But he knew better. He knew that the more he became attached to people, the more life took away those he cared about, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he dared mention them.

“25 years old. Became editor-in chief for ‘The Shire Daily News’ and has a column in ‘Gardeners Weekly’ named ‘Gardens and You’.”

Thorin flipped through Bilbo’s works, scanning the news and magazine clippings and read those which piqued his interest.

‘Hobbiton celebrates 125th harvest festival.’

‘Hobbiton experiences first rainstorm.’

‘Organic vs. Chemical Fertilizers: Which is Better for your Potatoes?’

‘Plants that Bite. Watch your Fingers and your Wallet.’

Soon, he came upon Bilbo’s picture. He ran his fingers over the glossy photo paper, smoothening out the creases. His lips curved upward and formed into a small smile upon looking.

Bilbo was wearing a brown waistcoat and a blazer that complimented his khaki dress pants. Over his white dress shirt hung a blue and yellow tie. It was quite a get up- something which Thorin would never imagine wearing in his life. But the image of Bilbo and his odd wardrobe choices wasn’t the reason for his smile.

It was Bilbo’s aura. It shone as bright as a single candle in a dark room and emanated warmth, enough to turn winter into spring. It made him feel something; he didn’t know what it was but he missed it.

Then it hit him.

He wasn’t supposed to get attached. And yet, here he was, clutching on to the photo as if it was life and he was on the brink of death.

“Give him a chance, Thorin. Give yourself a chance.” Balin’s words echoed in his head.

“I don’t deserve another chance. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I don’t want to lose anymore . . .” Thorin muttered, looking at Bilbo’s photo.

“Some people are meant to stay in our lives and some people are meant to leave us. And you should realize that it’s not your fault. That’s life, Thorin. That’s the game we play. We take chances, thinking we know the outcome but really, do we? The world does not depend on percentages and probabilities. We’re meant to lose something or someone, someday. But that shouldn’t stop us from trying our best to fight for the things worth keeping, even if it does hurt us.” His sister once told him.

The question now is: Was Bilbo worth it?

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Thank you to all those who left comments and kudos. Thank you too for all those who bookmarked, subscribed and read this chapter. You are all amazing! I hope you guys will be satisfied with this chapter :)

Bilbo sat in Gandalf’s Chevy 57 playing with the loose thread on his coat, rolling it into a ball when he accidentally pulled on it too hard. He glanced outside and saw that the rain had ceased. The once dark sky was now as blue as his favorite flowers – Forget- me- nots. People were starting to step out of their homes and open their windows. The already noisy town became even noisier.

But he didn’t mind.

The car had already passed the gate out of Laketown; all the noise turning into reverberations he wished to never hear again.

Gandalf had told him that it would take at least an hour to arrive in Dale – the town adjacent to Erebor.

“Must we really pass through Dale? Isn’t there another way?” Bilbo asked for the fifth time within the first thirty minutes of their trip.

“Yes, we must. No, there’s not. Dale is the only passage to Erebor. Now, Bilbo, if you’re going to keep asking-“

“I know. I know. I might as well write it down to remember.”

“It’s nice to know that you’ve remembered what I told you years ago.”

“Of course I did. I wrote it down.” Bilbo said sarcastically.

Gandalf smirked and shook his head.

“Oh, will you look at that?” Gandalf spun his laptop, showing Bilbo the letter he received from the one who received Bilbo’s resume.

‘Dear Mr. Grey,

                We are pleased to inform you that the position you have requested is open for Mr. Baggins to take. We will be expecting his presence for the orientation as soon as it is possible.

                                                                                                                                                                                Sincerely,

                                                                                                                                                                                Balin’

“And you wouldn’t believe me when I said that you were perfect for the job.” Gandalf said with an I-told-you-so tone in his voice.

“I still don’t know the job I’ve been accepted in. Would you mind telling me what it is?”

“I think it would be best to leave it as a surprise, since you seem to have a knack at coping with ‘unexpected’ things.”

“I don’t like what I’m hearing.”

“Dear fellow, trust me, it’s better than it sounds.”

“It better be. I’m putting more trust in you than the bank who keeps all my savings.”

Time passed quicker than Bilbo expected. After a few drinks and exchanges on each other’s lives, they arrived in Dale.

Bilbo stepped out, inhaling the fresh air- fresher than the air in Laketown. Gandalf followed soon after, also taking a deep breath.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” Bilbo breathed, putting a hand to his heart.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s a shame I wouldn’t be able to accompany you.”

“What! Why?” Bilbo’s cheeks reddened and he started shaking in nervousness and anger.

“I have other matters to take care of.” Gandalf retrieved Bilbo’s suitcase from the Chevy’s trunk.

“Matters more important than this one?”

“Yes.” Gandalf shoved a key and some money into Bilbo’s hands. “My colleague, Radagast Brown, has things he wishes to tell me.”

“There are so many things I wish to tell you right now.” Bilbo said through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’ll have to wait. Here’s a map. Try not to get lost this time. I’ve heard that it’s dangerous to roam in the less populated areas in Dale.” Gandalf shut the door before Bilbo could say another word.

“Ok. Don’t panic. You have a map.” Bilbo paced, fumbling with the map. “Oh, potatoes. No, no, no. You can’t be in another language. You just can’t!”

Bilbo dropped the map, shaking. His arms found its way around him, his hands harshly rubbing over his waistcoat. He felt colder than a winter’s night without a fire. His lungs, frozen, unable to function well enough to allow oxygen to enter his body.  He gasped for air as if he was drowning and no one was there to save him.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

“Breathe. In. Out. That’s it.”

A paper bag was shoved in his hand and placed in front of his face. There was a voice in his ear telling him what to do and a hand on his back, stroking it ever so slightly, the way his mother did when he had mini panic attacks.

He didn’t notice that he was squatting until he felt arms pulling him up. Removing the paper bag from his face and tucking it into his waistcoat, he dusted himself off.

In front of him stood the man who belonged to the voice. He was wearing a simple green and white striped polo with his jeans. On his head was a brown cross creek fedora, its fibers sticking out and its simple gray strap stained with who knows what. The man was grinning from ear to ear.

“Feel better now, lad?”

“Yes. I’m fine now. Thank you.” He closed his eyes. “Please tell me I’m in Erebor.”

“No, no. This is Dale. Erebor is  . . .” The man pointed to a skyscraper. “Over there.”

“Oh, I, my, that is quite far.” Bilbo clicked his tongue. “Well, I better get going.”

Bilbo ambled to Dale’s entrance and stood under the welcome sign. He noticed that Dale was similar to Laketown but lacked the new advancements in technology. To him, Dale could be compared to the setting of his favorite Shakespearean books. It was as if someone decided to paint a picture of Venice – with their own twists in it – and brought it to life right before his very eyes; untouched by the modern world and preserved in its own rustic beauty.

Bilbo could’ve spent the rest of the day staring at a place he was so familiar with, but pressing matters forced him to focus on what’s important. Slapping his pockets, he tried to remember where he put the map.

“Looking for this?” Bilbo heard a familiar voice behind him.

He spun and saw the man who helped him when he had a panic attack a while ago.

“Yes. May I have it back, please?”

“Of course.” The man willingly gave the map to Bilbo “You know, it’s easier to get to wherever you need to go if you just asked for help.”

“I’ll understand this soon enough.”

“Ah, I see you don’t trust me. Even after I just saved your life.”

“No.” The pitch in Bilbo’s voice increased an octave.

The man raised a brow.

“Alright, yes. I’m sorry. I’ve had bad experiences with strangers.” Bilbo hung his head low.

“Don’t worry, lad, I understand.” The man chuckled. “A wise man once said, _Dijnu hyadakh ghivasha, uruthukhiktzu hyemrur ra hurumizu tada khjumhizd ana zu.”_

“What does that mean?” Bilbo tilted his head to the right, his eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Trust is a rare treasure, hand it out scarcely and honor those that give it to you.” The man beamed. “Let me at least introduce myself so we won’t be total strangers. What you think?”

The man took off his fedora and bowed deeply.

“I’m Bofur. At your service.”

“Bilbo Baggins, at yours.” Bilbo  imitated Bofur’s bow but ended up a bit dizzy that Bofur had to help him regain his balance.

“Thank you. Again.”

“Trust me now?”

“Yeah.”

“Then get rid of the map and allow _me_ to get you to Erebor.”

Bofur took the liberty of touring Bilbo around Dale – telling him of the establishments and the people who worked there. It wasn’t long until they reached the town center.

“What about that?” Bilbo advanced to the oak tree standing in the heart of Dale.

Bilbo turned around and saw Bofur standing a few feet away from the tree, a dejected – almost lonely look on his face. Bilbo directed his focus back on the tree and noticed a stone tablet shaped like a shield attached to it. His fingers ran over the unfamiliar characters carved on it. It was very unlikely that he would let his head be filled with unanswered questions. But he deemed that it would be wise to leave himself with the benefit of the doubt for the time being.

“Some stories are best told when it means something – to the one telling and to the one listening. It may take some time. But you should know, Bilbo, that things become more valuable when it has meaning.” Bilbo looked from the budding flowers on the trees to Bofur, his mother’s words softening his heart.

“Oh, uhm. . . “ Bofur stammered.

Bilbo placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and shook his head. Bofur nodded and smiled gratefully at Bilbo.

“ _Akminruk  zu._ Thank you.”

They continued their trip in silence albeit feeling as if a great weight had been removed. And after a while, they ended up under the welcome sign of Erebor.

“It doesn’t really look like it wants to welcome us in.” Bilbo shrunk back, the two guards had their guns aimed at them.

“What is your business here?” A gruff voice was heard from behind the two guards.

“ _Shamukh_ , Dwalin!” Bofur greeted cheerily at the man who spoke.

“How did you? Oh, right. Never mind.” Dwalin’s eyes shifted from Bofur to a pale Bilbo. “And who are you?”

“I-uh-uhm.” Bilbo stuttered.

“He’s Bilbo Baggins.”

“What is your business here?” Dwalin grumbled, eyes still fixated on Bilbo.

Bilbo wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle as quickly as a popsicle would melt on a hot summer’s day. But he knew that he had to learn to face his fear- the one standing in front of him, looking at him as if he was easy prey. So, he gathered up his courage and spoke.

“I’m here to work for Mr. Oakenshield. And-and I can prove it. I think.” Bilbo brought out the key Gandalf gave him and showed it to Dwalin.

With one curt nod from Dwalin, the guards put their guns down and let Bofur and Bilbo through.

Bilbo stood at the entrance, enchanted. Building after building stood tall and proud, reflecting the sun rays like newly polished gems.

“Are you coming or not?” Bofur called.

Bilbo dragged his suitcase hurriedly to get in the cab Bofur called for them.

“To Thorin and Company.”

In less than fifteen minutes, they arrived at Thorin and Company’s skyscraper. Its magnificence unparalleled to the buildings his eyes first set upon when he arrived. The structure and the height stressed the obvious prestige present in the high-rising tower. Its glass doors were embellished with a familiar sight – an oak tree with a shield in the middle.

They both entered and just when Bilbo felt self-assured, Bofur was whisked away. He moved toward the receptionist who was giving all his attention to the person on the phone. Bilbo had to clear his throat just to get the receptionist’s attention. The receptionist humphed and put the person on hold.

“May I help you?”

“Ten minutes ago would’ve been nice.” Bilbo thought.

“Yes, I’m here to meet Mr. Oakenshield.”

“I believe Mr. Oakenshield is in a meeting. You could leave your suitcase here and wait in the receiving area. It’s on the 57th floor. Take a right . . .”

It was a challenge for Bilbo to remember the directions because they were a mixture of his language and the gibberish he heard from Bofur and the people in Dale. He was about to ask the receptionist to repeat the directions but he was ignored.

“I guess I’ll have to trust my instincts.”

It turned out that his instincts stink. When he stepped onto the 57th floor, he took a right and got lost in the multiple hallways. The signs on the door weren’t much help, considering that they were written with more unfamiliar characters.

“I really have to learn their language.”

He saw that in one of the rooms opposite to him, there was a small commotion. If he assumed correctly, the room may be full of people who could speak his language and might be willing to help him. Barging into the room, he noticed that he was right about one thing – the room was full of people. These people raised their voices at him, probably insulting him in Khuzdul.

“Look I know you’re mad and you’re probably making harsh comments about my clothes or my looks. But could you a least say it in a language I understand.” Bilbo exclaimed.

“Ah, a common speaker.” One of the men seated, lowered his glasses and inspected Bilbo more closely. “And with attitude, no less.”

“Not what we’d expect from you, Thorin. But let’s see how this plays out.” Another man spoke. “But if this idea is garbage, well, you know where garbage belongs. And wherever your idea will go, your magazine will follow.”

“The fate of your magazine lies on this man. Pray, he won’t let you down. Go on lad, present your idea.”

 Bilbo looked from the men who spoke to the man being spoken to – Thorin Oakenshield. Their eyes locked and he saw glimpses of fear, desperation, defeat and an unspoken plea in Thorin’s deep blue eyes. Thorin was the first to break eye contact, leaving Bilbo with the decision to either save the magazine or to lose it forever.

No one had ever trusted him with so much. And even if he didn’t know Thorin, the other people in the room or what he was doing, he knew he didn’t want to let Thorin down.

“Yes. Yes. My presentation.” Bilbo clasped his trembling hands together hoping that the board members wouldn’t notice his agitation.

The room was silent enough to hear every thud made by Bilbo’s shoes. And after adjusting the neckline of his suit, he cleared his throat.

“Esteemed board members.” Bilbo smiled and lifted his chin a little higher. “It is my honor and pleasure to discuss with you the new idea for the next issue.”

His eyes landed on the title of the presentation he was supposed to give – Strategically Built Architecture and How it’s been Erebor’s Pride for the past 50 years. Wincing, he closed the laptop.

“Come on, Bilbo.” He thought. “What inspires you to keep going?”

“Courage.”

“Courage?” Many of the board members raised their eyebrows, Thorin included.

“Yes. Courage. I’ve always been someone who would rather play safe then take risks. To be honest, without courage, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“This isn’t about you lad.” One scoffed.

“Shut it, Balor. Let the man speak. Continue.”

“Ah, thank you. But-but Mr. Balor is right.”

Balor’s chest puffed up at the compliment.

“This isn’t about me alone. It’s about all of us. To live a life in fear means never living at all. We tell people that being mediocre is alright, admirable even. But is it?”

Many of the board members shook their heads which made Bilbo smirk.

“See. All of you disagree with what most believe in.”

“What’s your point lad?”

“My point is that we should allow people to read articles of real life stories of people who were courageous enough to step out of their comfort zone to fight for what they believe in – may it be a homeland, a loved one or even something as simple as an idea. Let us inspire them to not just make a living but to live a life that they’ll be proud of.”

The board members were silent and were glancing at each other. No one dared comment nor give any sign of approval to Bilbo. Bilbo took this as a sign for him to go.

“Thank you for your time.” He bowed deeply.

Bilbo left the room defeated and drained.

“There goes my last hope for a life I’ll be proud of.” He muttered to himself, bringing out his phone and texting Gandalf.

“You were wrong about me. I don’t deserve a better life because I’m not worth anything. I’m sorry I let you down.”

_I’m sorry I let myself down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Dwarrow Scholar who provided the Khuzdul phrases :D
> 
> Comments are encouraged :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been three years since I've updated this and I've felt like it was time to rekindle the flames of passion for this ship. Apologies in advance should I forget to update this. University life requires so much of my time and effort. Worth it though. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy reading!

"My dear friend, I believe you are making a mistake. Allow-"

"No, no! You, Gandalf, you are the one who made amistake in choosing me. I don't- I can't . . ."

Gandalf heared the sound of a matress slightly deflating. A sigh, a thud and a groan followed.

"Could you, at the very least, tell me the tale? The tale of your terrible triumph?"

"Triumph? I wouldn't call it that."

"Mr. Balin seemed to think it was such."

Bilbo sat up.

"He said it was quite a reckless-"

Then he winced.

"-but clever attempt at saving the company."

_Silence_

__"He wants you to come back. He is looking for you right now. Mr. Oakenshiled had asked him to. My dear boy, does that mean _nothing _to you?"___ _

____"I can't just stay."_ _ _ _

____"And why not? Are you that willing to go back - mind you to a 9 to 5 job - just because of a simple blunder. You're less of a Took than I thought. Your mother would be disappointed."_ _ _ _

____"And who are you to tell me that?" Bilbo started opening and closing his hands, his fingers curling and his knuckles turning white._ _ _ _

____"As a friend-"_ _ _ _

____"As a friend? As a friend!"_ _ _ _

____Bilbo was now pacing across the room. He had the strong urge to chuck his phone across the room. Anything to stop this, anything to stop him from further making a fool of himself._ _ _ _

____"A real friend wouldn't sign a friend up to a job and leave him as he if was some stray dog who could find his way around a city whose inhabitatnts thought of people who spoke a language I understood as lowly. A real friend would've cared. And a real friend would book a flight for his friend who-"_ _ _ _

____A glimpse of orange caught his eye - the sun was setting._ _ _ _

____"- just wants to go home."_ _ _ _

____Three intakes of breath.__  
Three knocks.  
A second thought.  
Three words._ _

____"I do care."_ _ _ _

____Beeping came from the other side and with that, the call simply just ended._ _ _ _

____Three more knocks and a muffled sound startled Bilbo, catching him off guard. He then proceeded to open the door._ _ _ _

____"Yes?" Peering through the small space between the door and the walls, he find a man - quite short, somewhere around his fifties and had white hair all over to match._ _ _ _

____"Is everything aright >?"_ _ _ _

____"I-um. . ."_ _ _ _

____"Right, sorry. How rude of me. _Shamukh _! I'm Dori."___ _ _ _

______"Oh my. I terribly apologize for the disturbance I'm causing." Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck._ _ _ _ _ _

______"No, no. No disturbance. Nothing that I am aware of. I'm only here to bring you this."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dori slightly bends to his right and Bilbo hears a clatter of silverware. Before extending his arms to accept tray, he raised an eyebrow at Dori._ _ _ _ _ _

______"It's complimentary on the first night. And yes, I know what you're thinking. Why'd I brought it myself? I may not seem so . . . but we value our customers . . ." Dori took a deep breath. "And the one who's supposed to bring you your dinner got scared."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ah. Well, uhm, thank you for this. And would you please tell him I'm sorry?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"There's no need. He was shaken up, that's all. Toughens him up. Builds character."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo would've scoffed right there and then. Troubling and traumatic circumstances don't build anything, in fact they don't do anything but destroy._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You alright sir?" Dori tilted his head. "You were in another place there. If you don't mind sir, please do tell why you are so troubled."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo's lips tightened, as if hesitating. But only for a moment before he stepped aside and opened his door even wider with his foot._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Are you sure? I carry heavy baggage."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Mr. Baggins - your name's on the guest list - that's why you're at an inn. To rest. To lay down your heavy baggage." Dori said as his hands quickly but gently fixed the small table where Bilbo was to eat. "We at the Ri Brother's Inn have been ready ever since."_ _ _ _ _ _

______~_ _ _ _ _ _

______Thorin downed the glasss of whiskey he was clutching in his right hand. Whiskey was the strongest that he had at the moment - anything to make him forget. And he didn't know if it was out of relief or nervousness or sheer desperation, that made him empty his glass but what he did know is that with every sip, every single worry. . . disappeared._ _ _ _ _ _

______Balin came back, panting._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I'm sorry, Thorin. We couldn't find him."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Thorin slammed the glass upon his table - glass upon glass produced an ear-piercing chink that made Balin wince._ _ _ _ _ _

______"That means you're not trying hard enough. Erebor is not big enough for him to get lost in it. In fact, it's small. Very, very small."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"He could be in Dale, Thorin. And Dale-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Then we'll just have to make sure that he wouldn't leave."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Thorin. . ."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Balin's fearful eyes focused on Thorin's hand who gripped the whiskey glass as if he was strangling someone. Then, Balin's and Thorin's bloodshot eyes met. Thorin need not speak for Balin to know that BIlbo had to be found. As soon as possible._ _ _ _ _ _

______~_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dori watched Bilbo pick at the strips of steak, his appetite long gone._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Odd." Dori remarked. "Vegetables, gone. Meat, untouched. Perhaps you're the change we do need in the city."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo looked up, doubtful at the words that escaped Dori's lips. Him? The change they need? No one had ever needed him. If no one ever did, why would they now?_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Believe it or not, Mr. Baggins, may it be fate or coincidence that brought you here, you're here for a reason. And I wouldn't go leaving before I know what it was. But then again, that is, if I were in your situation. Finished?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo nodded, contemplating on Dori's words and on whether hed leave or not. But he knew Dori was right. He had to find out the reason why he'd been sent here._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I hope your tay here was a pleasant one." Dori walked toward the door and opened to leave. "But if you choose to stay, do know that you can always find a home in us - and I don't just mean the room." Dori winked._ _ _ _ _ _

______~_ _ _ _ _ _

______"I couldn't just send our roces out in the city, barging in to every house and every inn until I find him, could I?" Balin slouched deeper in the couch._ _ _ _ _ _

______Balin, as Thorin's current personal assistant, advisor and closest friend, called for a meeting with his closest and loyal friends. Dwalin the city guard, was present. As well as Nori, the local and famous newscaster._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You have the power to though." Nori said as he crossed his ankles and place them on top of the coffee table._ _ _ _ _ _

______"And my men would follow my commands without question." Dwalin agreed, glaring at Nori, telepathically ordering him to keep his feet off the table._ _ _ _ _ _

______But Nori remained immobile, smirking at Dwalin._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I do hope our search would not come to whatever you two are thinking."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"What you are saying brother," Dwalin firmly gripped Balin's shoulders. "Is that you don't _want _to. But what if it comes for to the point that you need to? Then we," Dwalin pushed Nori's feet off the table with a satisfying smirk "would be more than honored to do what _needs _to be done. Even if it means employing force."_____ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Brother, we are not looking for a criminal.We are looking for a - let us call it - a runaway."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Call him what you want. Doesn't change what he did."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I could always just annouce it on television, during the morning news." Nori suggested, cleaning his nails, yawning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"And how would you do it?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Nori sat up, cleared his throat and positioned himself accordingly - his body 45 degress facing to the left, hands clasped and placed just under his upper torso and his head turned straight towards Balin and Dwalin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"_________ Baknd ghelekh _ _Erebor. This just in , missing emplyee of Thorin and Company. Name: Bilbo Baggins. Height: 5'4. Has curly blonde locks. Last seen outside the building of Thorin and Company. If found, bring directly to Mr. Balin. Reward -"__

____________"Reward?" Balin blurted out instantaneously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Nori broke out of character._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Why not? This is urgent. And besides, you should know this Mr. Balin. No one does something for the sake of goodness or humanity or for others. People's intentions are for personal gain. Want to gain something, make them gain something as well. An eye for an eye or in our case, a body for some money. You have two options, Mr. Balin. My idea, which I may say is less intrusive and harmful, or Mr. Dwalin's. All you have to do is choose."____________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baknd ghelekh - Good morning


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my updates seem so quick and all but I've missed three years, so might as well post as soon as I can.

The sky was painted orange and gold. Buildings reflecting the warm colors on their window panes. But one stood out - Thorin and Company. This magnificent work, the blend of art and architecture did not just reflect, but gleamed. It shone and it’s beauty was unparalleled to it’s adjacent buildings. It stood out flawlessly - like a red rose in a white room, a white crayon, a strong aura, a beautiful sunrise after witnessing a dozen mediocre ones.

“Much like Thorin.” Bilbo thought. “Speaking of him. . .”

He whipped the phone from under his pillow and called Gandalf.

“Hell-hello? Gandalf?”

“Bilbo, isn’t it too early to be calling me? Not that I mind, however-”

“You’re not an early riser. I am well-aware, I just wanted to say I’m sorry and that you didn’t deserve the shit I gave you yesterday and . . . the shit I’m about to give you today.”

“You’re forgiven and what are you saying dear fellow?”

“I’m staying, Gandalf. I’m not going to leave. Not just yet.”

“Well, well. What made you change your mind?”

“Not what, who. You’re not mad?”

“Not in the slightest. I was hoping for this. Whatever, whoever said to you, tell them that I am grateful. You deserve a better life than what you had, dear fellow.”

“Yes, well, thank you Gandalf. I’ll-I’ll be off.”

“Yes, of course. Oh, and Bilbo? I do care. I never stopped.”

With a lighter heart, Bilbo turned his phone off and fixed his room or as Dori had said, his home. At least until he found one for himself. Stepping outside his room, he walked toward the concierge where he found Dori. Dori, upon seeing Bilbo, grinned and greeted him ‘good morning’.

“A bit early to be awake ain’t it?” Dori smirked. “People don’t wake till ten.”   

“I’m an early riser. Like to watch the sun rise. Which, in Erebor, as I found out this morning, is magnificent.” Bilbo gushed.

“Yes, I know. Makes waking up early worth it, no?”

“Uncle! Uncle!”

A little boy appeared, running from the entrance. In his hand was a sketchbook and several coloring pencils. He was excitedly running toward Dori until he saw Bilbo. He stopped. Hid his face with his hard. And ever so slowly, he inched his way toward the back of the front desk.

“Ori, why don’t you say hello to our guest.” Dori caressed the boy’s back, pushing him a bit towards Bilbo.

“H-hi. I’m-I’m Ori.”

Bilbo crouched in order for their eyes to be leveled. Ori shrinked smaller as if trying to hide himself from the attention given to him. Bilbo knew it was going to be a challenge to make this boy open up to him but then again, he had experience with all kinds of children. He knew, it may take some time but if he becomes more comfortable, he’d talk more. Or at least not stutter and shrink in fright.

“Hello Ori. I’m Bilbo. Oh, wait, uhm, I mean, Sha-muck!”

Bilbo’s greeting had elicited a giggle from Ori as well as a hesitant handshake.

“It’s _shamukh_ Mr. Bilbo.”

“Really? Huh, I really have to learn how to speak your language here. I mean, might as well since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Bilbo looked up at Dori and winked.

“That is good news ain’t it Ori?”

Ori nodded.

“Maybe you could teach me Ori. And perhaps you could me how to draw the sunrise as pefectly as you do?”

The red-haired boy showed Bilbo his work of art. Perfect, Bilbo thought, was an understatement. Ori had a gift. He knew which colors to blend to produce the right shade of the orange gold hue of the sky. Looking at Ori’s materials though, Bilbo felt both pity and pride at the shy humble boy he just met. Given his limited tools, he was able to still make something that looked a photograph. And at that moment, out of all the things he didn’t know - why he was here, what he was supposed to do, what he signed up for - he knew that one of his goals was to buy this boy what he deserved. That was the least he could do.

“Why, thank you Ori.”

Bilbo stood and ushered Ori back to his comfort zone - the front desk.

“So, Mr. Dori, know any good breakfast places? Or any breakfast place that serves food as early as this time?”

“There’s Triple B’s Brunch. They serve brunch the whole day. It’s an odd service, yes. But they serve delicious food. It’s a few blocks away. Uhm, that way.” Dori pointed to Bilbo’s left. “I can call you a cab if you want. I’d walk with you but duty calls.”

“Oh, thank you but I think I’ll just walk.”

Dori watched Bilbo step out of his inn. From behind, he could hear the drone of the television from when Ori turned it on a few minutes after he went to the back of the front desk.

“Uncle?”

Ori had a slight tremble in his voice which worried Dori.

“Yes Ori?”

“Look.” Ori was pointing at the screen. Lo and behold was Bilbo’s photo.

“What in-”

Ori turned the volume up.

“Again, this is Bilbo Baggins. Blond curls. Height: 5’4. He’s a runaway folks. If you find him, bring him to Thorin and Company to Mr. Balin. There will be a reward for those who will bring him in. Thank you and good morning.”

* * *

 

Erebor was why different than the Shire, Bilbo pointed out. There were no trees, no bees, no birds - the same things that greeted him so early in the morning at the Shire. Instead of trees, there were establishments that grew and grew higher than the pine trees he had at home.

Pine trees reminded him of Christmas so much that it hurt but afterwards spread warmth around his body. But here, it felt like there were no holidays. Everyone was so bent at working and reaching the deadline and aiming for success, aiming to add more to their buildings but nothing to their lives.

And maybe, Bilbo thought, in this hustle and bustle of a distorted place he stayed in, these people were the birds and the bees. There were no songs of birds but the rumble and roar of the engines of cars on the streets and an occassional honk.

Speaking of honk, Bilbo looked back and saw Bofur in a limousine. His head stuck out and his hand incessantly honking the wheel.

“Oy! What’re you doing walking down the streets?” Bofur hollered, his car slowing down to match Bilbo’s pace.

“Getting fresh air? Is it a crime now?” Bilbo went from a stroll to a halt. He had noticed that people around him were whispering. One little girl even pointed at him, only to be scolded by her mother.

“What’s going on?” Bilbo asked, now sweating.

Bofur, sensing Bilbo’s discomfort and the people’s growing awareness of the situation hollered at Bilbo.

“Get in here!” He instructed.

“Hey, that’s I saw on TV. That’s Bilbo!” Bilbo heard someone mention out loud.

“Get in!”

Bilbo rushed into the passenger seat, albeit tripping several times doing so. Once he got in however, he buckled himself in really well.

“Hold on!”

Stepping on the gas, Bofur took off, leaving the people partly angry and disappointed. It was when they neared Triple B’s Brunch that Bofur slowed down and looked right, worried. Bilbo was silent the whole ride and was facing the window, his arm propped up, supporting his head. And finally, they arrived at their destination – the back of Triple B’s Brunch.

“Everything alright there Bilbo?”

“I don’t get it.” Bilbo’s brow creased. “Why were they . . .?”

“Haven’t you watched the morning news? Ain’t you got a television in your room?”

“I do, it’s just I don’t turn it on.”

“You’re wanted-“

“Wanted? Me? By whom? For what?”

“By Thorin and Company. Balin’s offering a reward to those who’ll find you. And no, I have no idea why’d they’d want you.”

“Must be what happened yesterday.” Bilbo sighed. “Might as well, better now than later. Get it done and over with. Thank you Bofur for, uh, saving me and telling me. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

Stepping out of the car, Bilbo became more terrified than ever.

“Wait!” Bofur called out.

“Oh, right. It is only right. After all, people already know.” Bilbo walked back to Bofur.

“Are you thinking that I’m calling you back so I could bring you to Mr. Balin and to claim my reward?”

“Weren’t you”

“Tempting.” Bofur chuckled. “But no. You are out of your head, you are. I was going to ask you if you wanted to have a spot of breakfast before you go face everyone at Thorin and Company. One angry man is enough but two, we’ll be damned.”

Bofur’s laugh was deep and hearty.

“So, you wouldn’t – you didn’t even think of forcing me or bringing me in?” Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

“’Course not. You’re a friend. Why’d I do that?”

* * *

“You still haven’t found him?” Thorin asked, his voice hoarse and his eyes, red.

“We are trying our best Thorin. Nori has announced it to Erebor. If not us, people will find him”

“But why would they? They hate us. They hate me.”

Thorin stared out at the people he constantly attempted to connect to with his stories and articles. He felt like a king and he was, at least for a while, the King of Media to be exact. And he was losing all of it: his title and their respect. Without Bilbo, there was nothing he could do about it. He was their only hope.

“They will. They simply can’t resist.” Balin mumbled, a check in his hand with more zeroes than he will ever see in his lifetime from all of them – from all those who still believe in Thorin and will remain loyal to him even in these rough time.

“Mahal, help us.”

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter :D Just a heads up, classes are starting at my university and I do have both writing-heavy and reading-heavy classes until the next year so I wouldn't be able to update as quickly. I will try though 'cause I really really love writing this fanfic. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

"Any friend of my brother is a friend of mine. _Shamukh_ Bilbo!"

  
Bombur, the owner of Triple B's Brunch  & Bofur's closest cousin, enthusiastically picked Bilbo up and squeezed him into a big hug. They had just come in from the back door - the entrance of the kitchen. Bombur, although he noticed Bilbo as he entered, with one shake from Bofur's head he best knew not to ask.

  
"You are too trusting Mr. Bombur."

  
"Bombur. No mister. You could put chef but never mister. Too formal." Bombur's gruff voice informed him. "And I don't just rust anyone. But if my cousin says he's alright then he is. So, what'll it be?"

  
After debating on whether he wanted a light breakfast or a heavy on, he chose to have a bit of both. Bombur was more than happy to comply.

  
"So," Bilbo began. "It's alright if we stay here?"

  
"Yah. Perks of having your cousin as owner and head chef. And if you think you're going to be paying for all you ordered, well, you're not. That's your perk for being my friend and entrusting me with your trust."

  
A few minutes and lessons on Khuzdul, Bombur arrived at the table carrying a huge tray with their food and beverages. He even accompanied them.

  
"I know I mentally agreed to keeping quiet about certain things," he faced Bofur, "But I just have to ask why does Mr. Balin want you?"

  
Bilbo dusted the crumbs of his hands and took a sip of tea.

  
"Bombur-" Bofur scolded, his pitch going up.

  
"No, no, it's alright. I ran away. I was applying for a job at Thorin and Company. Couldn't read Khuzdul, couldn't speak it. I, uh, got lost. So, what happened was I entered the room where the meeting - a uhm - very important meeting was taking place. They thought I was a presenter."

  
"But you weren't." Bofur said in disbelief.

  
"I wanted to say no. But was their 'only hope', they said. And Mr. Oakenshield - you should have seen the look on his face - it was hopelessness and desperation. I couldn't just walk out of there without trying."

  
"So you did it." Bombur leaned back. "And how did it go?"

  
"Good, on my part at least. I never knew what happened after. A friend said it was good but I beg to disagree."

  
"Is that why you ran away?" Bombur asked. "Because you're afraid you messed up and you don't want to own up to it? Or because you don't want to take the responsibility of a half-ass idea that actually worked?"

  
The truth of Bombur's words hit him harder than he thought. He never realized that he ran because of exactly those reasons. But not those reasons alone.

  
"I ran because I didn't want to let Mr. Oakenshield down. I didn't want him to become disappointed in me if I fail. And in himself, if I succeeded. Because if I did succeed, that's it. I wouldn't know what to do after that. He'll get disappointed either way."

  
"And what about you?" Bombur raised an eyebrow.

  
"What about me?"

  
"You can't disappoint yourself any further. So, why not start doing the opposite."

* * *

  
"It is already 7:30, Balin. Where is he? This is his idea. I cannot present an idea that is not mine." Thorin spoke through gritted teeth. "Do you know how hard it is that-"

  
"Mr. Oakenshield?"

  
"What?" Thorin was constantly adjusting his cuffs and brushing his hair through his fingers.

  
"People are leaving sir."

  
Thorin had hoped, hoped so hard that this final meeting to prove himself through Bilbo and discuss how to salvage the company was enough to make them stay. And as much as Thorin wished that the young man was wrong, he knew that nothing could stop these people from leaving. They had the right to. He had asked them to stay for too long. People stood from their seats, faces expressing disgust, disappointment and pity.

  
"I'm really sorry sir."

  
"Thorin? Thorin? Are you still there?" Balin's voice came from Thorin's phone.

  
"You're too late Balin."

* * *

  
"What in the world? Bofur? What?"

  
Bilbo was rushing to enter the building. With Bofur disappearing from his side, the tried to asked those who were coming out from the building what was happening but people were too distracted. No one. Not a single one told him.

  
"Earthquake drill? Fire drill? Poisonous gas?" He thought.

  
"You can't go! You can't leave him! I've got him. I've got Bilbo. He'll help us. Don't go. What about Mr. Oakenshield? Are you not sorry for him? His nephews?"

  
Bilbo could hear Bofur's name from afar. When his eyes finally caught a familiar looking fedora, he saw Bofur blocking another man, struggling to push him back into the building.

  
"I don't give a damn, Bofur. Let go of me!"

  
Bilbo ran to him, hoping he'd talk to the man.

  
"You should give a damn!" Bofur stomped on the ground.

  
"And why should I? He never did. He doesn't care about his staff. He doesn't care about the magazine. He doesn't care about you. So why should you?"

  
"What's happening?" Bilbo narrowed his eyes toward the man.

  
"I quit!" The man pushed both of them aside.

  
Bilbo assisted Bofur in regaining his balance.

  
"You alright?"

  
"Oh yah. Can't do anything about that, can I?"

  
"No, but I can."

* * *

  
"Mr. Oakenshield?" Bofur peered into Thorin's office.

  
"If you've come here looking for your last month's salary, or money to aid you in looking for another job, you're wasting your time." Thorin spoke in a monotonous voice, looking out into the horizon, his back turned to the door.

  
"No, sir, I've found him. I found Bilbo Baggins."

  
"Well, send him back to whatever insensitive hellhole he's been hiding in all this time."

  
"Now, wait a minute." Bilbo interrupted, barging in.

  
"No, Bilbo."

  
"No, no, I've got something to say."

  
"Do you Mr. Baggins?" Thorin turned and stood, perching himself at the edge of his desk.

  
"Yes, I do as a matter of fact." Bilbo crossed his arms, cheeks turning red.

 

"Then, indulge me."

  
"Mr. Oakenshield." Bofur hesitantly spoke. "Mr. Baggins will-"

  
"No, Bofur, I have to do this. Don't worry about me. It's time. . ." Bilbo turned to Thorin, determined.

  
"To present to Mr. Oakenshield my idea one last time."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Hope you're all doing great! :D Here's the next chapter and I hope you guys enjoy :)

"Look, Mr. Oakenshield, I'm sorry, I'm-" Bilbo twiddled his thumbs and looked down.

"Mr. Baggins, if you're going to present courage to me, you're not giving off a good second impression."

Bilbo cleared his throat.

"I've been forced, pushed, assaulted, verbally abused-"

"-Mr. Baggins, if you came here to complain-"

"'I am not yet finished, Mr. Oakenshield. With all due respect, you may be the boss. But," Bilbo pushed the curtains aside. "Not anymore. Call me frank and rude and all that but you are too. You're not apppreciative, you don't know when you've crossed the line and you're just a huge pain in the ass!"

"Your ass?" Thorin calmly waked toward his mini bar and took out a bottle of Merlot. "Why, Mr. Baggins you haven't worked here. What do you know? Because what you know now is null, nothing, worthless shit."

Thorin poured himself a glass a took a swig.

"I may not have worked here but they have. And where are they now? Where?"

"I don't give a damn where they are or where they'll go. They didn't give a second thought of staying. No, they left when they got the chance. All of them!" Thorin's veins throbbed in his neck as he spoke. "You stand there, acting like a saint, scolding me like I've done something - no - everything wrong. And they haven't. Like you haven't."

"Me?" Bilbo furrowed his brow.

"Why did you leave? Didn't want to see a sinking ship sink even lower? Couldn't take it? Wasn't brave enough? I knew you're idea was bull. And I'd rather be the captain of a sinking ship and die with it, instead of letting some simple man on who attempts to steer a boat full of holes. But I let you anyway. And you're just like them, you don't care."

"I do care! That's why I came back. That's why I'm here. That's why I even tried in the first place." Bilbo leaned by one of Thorin's drawers.

"I didn't ask to be saved."

"I know. And I'm sorry it didn't end up the way you expected. But I'm not going to give up- on this magazine and on you. Just yet."

The look that Bilbo gave Thorin made Throin's heart swell. And the way Thorin looked at Bilbo made him want to melt into a puddle on the spot. And for a split moment, it was perfect until Thorin's eyes turned cold once more.

"It is a deal then? We'll discuss all that's needed to be taken care of later. For now, leave me be. Unless, you want to be fired before you even begin."

* * *

 

"I'm here, Mr. Oakenshield."

"Balin, we are friends. You've never called me Mr. Oakenshield and I hope you keep it that way." Thorin tilted his head and gave a small smile at Balin.

"Thorin," Balin paused, a lighter tone in his voice. "A little bird has told me that I'm no longer your personal assistant."

"Yes." Thorin emptied his wine glass. "I don't even know if I've made the right choice."

"We'll see, Thorin. We'll see."

"Now what?" Thorin sat dejected in his seat, his used-to-be throne of a thriving magazine that was thriving no longer. "I have no editors, no people to write the articles, research for the articles, let alone people to interview or a concrete plan on what to do or write about."

"That's what we're here for."

"Who?"

"Us, Mr. Oakenshield."

And just like that, Balin's friends and who's left of Thorin's supporters - Dwalin, Nori Dori, Bofur, Bombur and Bilbo stood right before him - prepared for their challenges. They looked like a group of superheroes ready to save the sinking ship of a company - one day at a time.

"First things first, what this magazine needs in an idea to pitch." Balin stated in a matter-of-factly.

All eyes focused on Bilbo and the lump in Bilbo's throat bobbed up and down but his back was stretched and prepared. It was time he showed people what it is to be courageous.

* * *

 

"That's it lad?" Dwalin asked, unconvinced.

"Well, that's what I presented to the board. And yes, I admit, my ideas were half-baked, they still are. But I was wondering if maybe you could give your thoughts on it."

Crickets chirped.

"Anyone?"

"Well, if Mr. Oakenshield would agree," Dori glanced at Thorin and saw that his eyes eyerbrows were furrowed; it was enough for Dori to stow away his idea. "Nevermind."

"No, no, Dori, please. Every input is valuable."

"Since his choice to continue the magazine, is sorta brave - is brave - why don't we . . ."

"Yes."                                                                                                                           "No."

"Why not?" Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"I don't have to prove myself to anyone."

"No, but your magazine does. And I think what Dori said is a great idea. If it goes well, it's not only the magazine which will gain a good reputation but you as well, something which we'll need if we're to win back the hearts of your readers and trust of the people who worked for you. So you on board?"

The rest of those left in the Company watched Bilbo and Thorin's banter, slightly frightened at what Throin would say.

"Do I still have a choice?"

"No, not reall." Bilbo said in a this-is-final tone. He then proceeded to turn and write it on the whiteboard. "So, who wants to take on this assignment?"

"Why don't you do it?" Bofur offered.

"What?" Bilbo and Thorin simultaneously said.

"Well, we're all afraid of Mr. Oakenshield, sorry sir, no offense-"

"Not taken."

"You're not. You're the most experienced writer in the group. You can do it better than we all can."

Everyone else nodded and agreed.

 _Unbelievable._ "Fine."

"I'm the boss _and_ I'm the one being interviewed. Don't I have a say in this?"

"You want a say in this? I'm the one who's going to interview you."

"So, you think it's hard? That I wouldn't cooperate? Why don't you try baring yourself to the world to be judged?"

"That's not a bad idea actually." Balin remarked.

Bilbo darted his eyes at Balin and glared at Thorin. Thorin, on the other hand, smirked.

"Hear me out. They could contrast each other on the spread. But both starting anew on this magazine. It'll be interesting. And you, Thorin, will be Bilbo's interviewer."

"What?" Thorin gasped.

"That is what you wanted right?"

"Yes?"

"It's settled then. One article down, a lot more to go."

"This is going to be a long day."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for forgetting to update last week, we've been asked to read something really long and I had to read it and to make notes. But here's the next chapter and I hope you guys enjoy reading :D

All things were taken care of. Some members of the company- or those who remained- went on their merry way with the tasks at hand. There were those in charge of looking for interviewees, others for ideas for articles, taking photographs of Erebor and the rest, "forcing" former members of the company to come back and work for Thorin again. The only task left undone was the interview between the boss of the company and the savior of the company. And it was clear that they were struggling.

They were seated in Thorin's office facing opposite sides- Thorin towards the window and Bilbo towards the door. Bilbo was staring at his notepad, his lip curled upward and his toe tapping on the hard wood floor. Thorin, on the other hand, was staring out the window, his hand itching for a glass of alcohol. He glanced at Bilbo and proceeded to get one. Bilbo turned to the sound of footsteps and glass clinking. Thorin, on the verge of filling his glass up, turned around and raised his caraffe filled with whiskey.

"No thanks, I don't drink." Bilbo shook his head ever so slightly at how unprofessional his interviewee was.

"Look," Thorin began after taking a sip and exhaling a sigh of satisfaction. "We both know this won't go anywhere. I'll simply refuse to talk and you will keep pestering me to answer the questions, and vice versa."

Bilbo opened his mouth, his index finger raised and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Let me finish." He looked at Bilbo. "Please."

"Alright." Bilbo waved his hand and leaned back into his chair.

"Give me the questions. I'll answer them and give them back to you. We don't have to worry about overstepping professional boundaries and we'll both get more work done. And my questions for you? Well, we'll cross the bridge when we get there." Thorin drained his glass in one gulp. "Any contentions?"

 _Loads._ Bilbo thought. _This procedure was simply unheard of. But if it means getting the answers without wasting anymore time . . ._

"None."

"Wonderful, not that you would have any say anyway." Thorin mumbled.

"I heard that but I'll pretend that I didn't so I wouldn't be so biased as to write that the boss is a condescending jerk. And before you tell me if you have any contentions with what I just said- not that there's anything you can do about it anyway- here are my questions." Bilbo slammed the notepad onto the table. And before Thorin could get a word out, Bilbo's phone vibrated.

"Bofur is in need of my assistance. Goodbue and I’ll be expecting those answers as soon as it is possible.” Bilbo pivoted his heels and headed straight for the door, ignoring the man rising from behind the desk.

“I’m your boss. You can’t disrespect me like this.” Thorin hollered, his voice deep but loud enough to cause haunting echoes to reverberate in Bilbo’s ears.

But Bilbo wasn’t one to back down. Not this time.

“I’m your only hope. Remember that? And if you don’t give a damn or a thought of giving me even an ounce of respect, they why should I bother?”

~

“What took you so long?” Bofur called out from the car.

“I ha to take care of some things.” Bilbo answered, rubbing his eyes and giving exasperated signs  as he clicked shut his seat belt.

“You seem tired there laddie, something the matter? Anything I can do to help?” Bofur lowered his voice, glancing at Bilbo every once in a while.

“No!” Bilbo bit his lip and looked at Bofur, worried that he might’ve offended him. “I’m sorry. It’s just you really don’t have to worry. Stress comes with work. I’m alright now.” Bilbo gave Bofur a reassuring smile which Bofur saw in his periphery. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Well, you’re coming with me to help convince Thorin’s best editor to come back and work for Thorin.”

“Okay. But why me?”

“You’ll see.”

The ride was nothing but pleasant and Bilbo loved it. It reminded him of the trips he had as a child with his parents with his mother being able to persuade his father by explaining that they’d be in the car the whole time. Those were the best adventures he ever had as a kid. His mother always had stories and fun facts for every tree, building and landmark they passed. And he loved every single one of them – that’s why he became a writer, he wanted to be much like his mother.

“Likin’ the view laddie?” Bofur chuckled at Bilbo – wide eyed and focused on what’s on the other side of the car window.

“You have no idea.”

“Oh, I think I have an idea. If you loved those, you’ll like this best.”

Bofur stopped the car in front of a house that was unlike anything Bilbo’s seen from the past few houses they passed by. Unlike other houses which were modern, sleek and had sharp and defined edges – this house found its own way of blending in nature. It was painted with natural colors and it had huge glass windows that covered most of the house and a mini garden that welcomed them.

“Wow.” Bilbo breathed as he stepped out of the car. “Just like home.”

“Knew you’d like it.” Bofur took a few steps forward.

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile at the sight – flowers, herbs bushes, trees – such a rare sight even with his very short stay at Erebor. People here didn’t seem to value nature as much. Why the closest thing he saw to a tree was Thorin and Co’s logo.

Bofur and Bilbo reached the front door. Bofur rang the bell hanging by the door.

“Brace yourself, laddie. You might not like this plan as much.”

~

What or who inspired you to start this company?Why choose close friends as your co-workers? Any particular reason as to why you decided to put up a magazine as your business? Where do you see yourself in ten years?

“Who does he think he is?” Thorin snarled, his right hand clutching the bottle of whiskey given that he’s forgone using a glass.

He raised the bottle to take a gulp and was met with three drops of brown strong liquid. Frustrated, he slammed the bottle down which in turn, gave him a headache.

“Thorin?” Balin gently opened the door. “What’s happened?”

Balin opened the door even wider and saw Thorin’s head down on his desk, snoring softly. He then found his way to Thorin, routinely placing back to the bottle to the mini bar and arranging the misplaced furniture. His eyes caught a folded piece of paper stuck under Thorin’s elbow. After proceeding to yank it, he decided to read what was written. On the notepad were questions and answers which alternated between ‘This is a stupid question’ and ‘This information is irrelevant to the article topic’.

Balin had hoped he was right, that Bilbo was a right choice made by both of them. But seeing Bilbo’s questions Thorin’s handwritten comments, he understood Bilbo couldn’t be the sole source of change. Thorin had too. And Balin hoped that Bilbo had enough strength to not only change the company but to first and foremost, change the man who ran it.

And so far, their choice wasn’t turning out to be as good as they hoped.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are encouraged :D


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